Medley
by ThatRebelKid
Summary: "They're nothing, you're nothing. All you are is sentimental value. " Life, seemingly, was it's own musical.


_No kind words from anyone, no compassion anywhere. _

Rachel Berry could not and would never be _perfect. _ The word was the very antonym of her name, the very bane from which she had constructed herself, striving and bleeding for the rewards that perfection claimed to reap. _They're not the solutions they promised to be. _Who and what she was, in all simplicity, summed in one word: Medley.

Life, seemingly, was its own musical. From the wind whistling in the near barren trees of the Carmel High parking lot, to the unyielding friction between rubber tyres and the tarmac underneath; the sounds heightening in volume, clamoring into frenzy until she was dizzy with it. _And I know it's only in my mind. _

Jesse was sauntering towards his car, a gym bag thrown over his shoulder, lines deepening as he contemplated to himself. _And all I see is him and me forever. _Her breath caught in her throat, pure hatred spearing through her being. _He _had not lost any sleep, _he _had not batted an eyelid, _he_ remained unaffected while hers had spun off its axis, crashing down into spotlight she had neither wanted, nor known of.

Striding forward, face expressionless by habit nowadays, she met him in the middle of the street. If he was surprised at her sudden appearance, he gave nothing away and she was surprisingly indifferent to his own apathy. If there was one thing he would learn today, it was of the very thing he himself had instilled in her. She could lie and manipulate with the best of them now; he had leveled the playing field. _Without me, his world will go on turning. _

There was no audience this time, no New Directions stepping out from behind and aid in his humiliation; the only audiences present were the stragglers left behind of Vocal Adrenaline, dragging their feet to leave the parking lot.

"I could've been you. You showed me the future that could have been mine if I continued on the way I was, if I kept believing that because I can sing Barbra Streisand and Sondheim, everything else would fall into place and around me," she paused, licking her lips and dragging her eyes to meet his once before smirking, "you're the worst. " _I think I miss you less and less as everyday goes by._

She can see his brow furrow, and takes a step closer, enjoying the tension in his shoulders build up tenfold as she crosses his invisible defenses. Another step, and she's inhaling his scent, hands reaching up to take his sweatshirt into his hands but she refrains, and instead settles for just breathing him in, tracing his jawline with her lips. _Curtain's finally closing, that was quite a show. _ He stands like stone, unaffected and she laughs at this, twirling away from him, trinkets of gold falling from her bag as she purposefully steps on them.

"They're objects of sentimental value, just cheap plastic painted gold. A cheap reward for a cheap effort," she says, words mixing together until it sounds almost as if she's _singing. Sometimes I feel my heart will overflow._ The dance on his fallen trophies halts, and for a second he can't quite differentiate between the pain _she's _causing him and the throbbing ache of his body, (_but maybe they're the same?_).

"They're nothing, you're nothing. All you are is sentimental value. " _But let me start by saying.._

"And I never loved you."

His heart was pounding against his chest with newfound vigor, fighting to keep beating, to keep living; his hands were sweating again, and he rubbed them off on his sweat pants, fiddling with the pockets before meeting her gaze. She was no heart and no tension, moving across his broken golden things with a fluidity he only ever associated with his own music. _So lost and oh so beautiful. _

"No, you're lying. You feel so much, you feel like you're bleeding with it," he speaks finally, throat burning raw as he gasped for air. _I'm on a highway to hell. _She stopped again, and she's looking him dead on and he feels he's about to explode with tension, (_and ohmygodohmygodohmygod, why can't he breathe, why can't he breathe, WHY CAN'T HE BREATHE?). I'm down on my knees._

Rachel grips his shoulder, and he jumps at the sudden contact, his skin is burning where she touches him and every nerve is screaming for more, aching and tingling for more of Rachel- but she pushes him down and he wonders vaguely how she managed to get him on his knees. _No end and no beginning. _

"This, us, whatever we were- was nothing. You were just a detour on _my_ way to fame, on _my _way to the Great White Way of Broadway," she almost whispers, but to him it sounds like laughter and its ringing in his ears like a frenzy of melodies, (_and he's choking on her words because those are the things he said to himself about her- and ohmygodohmygodohmygod, how does she know?). _He could almost see the heartbroken expression, with yolk trailing down her face. _Didn't mean to make you cry. _

"I'm going to break you, St. James," she said simply, and the anti-climactic nature of it nearly blows him away. _She ran to me, with tear-filled eyes and bruises on her face. _This wasn't something he would have expected from _Rachel Berry. _"Break you like you broke me."

"No, wait. Rachel!" he calls out to her retreating back and it's almost as if he's collapsing into (_or onto, he can't tell which), _himself now that she's gone. _Turn around, bright eyes. _"Rachel... please."

She's cooling the fire that burned its way through her throat and stopping the tears in her eyes when the frenzy of sound that's been clouding her hearing stops. _I love him, but only on my own. _Her heart stops for a moment, but then the tears come again and she tries to speak through her tears but find that she's robbed of her voice.

"_Don't cry for me Argentina,"_ Jesse sings softly through his own tears as he steps forward to cup her face in his hands. "_A__ll you have to do is look at me to know that every word is true."_

But she's spinning out of his reach again, and he's given no reaction time, and before he knows it, all he has of her is the faint scent of her perfume surrounding him, (_but he can't wait to see her at Regionals; she can lie with the best of them now, after all). _

* * *

Some of italics are song lyrics, most of them are from the songs (solos) that both Rachel and Jesse have had throughout the show, though two of them are from _Sweeney Todd_ and the very first line is from _Phantom of the Opera_, (Jesse does love Sondheim).

So, I don't own Glee or any of the aforementioned music.

**No flames please**; this piece started off as drabble-ish but it twisted and morphed into this one. Not really sure how I feel about it, any CONSTRUCTIVE criticism/feedback appreciated.


End file.
